Hearts Through Time Read online

  “I’ll always be available for you, Abby.”

  The way he said her name almost melted her heart. “Thank you again. You don’t know what that means to me.”

  “I want you to remember what a greedy person your uncle is. Do not let him, or his family, come close to you. They want your father’s money, and they’ll stop at nothing to get it.”

  Fear struck her heart again. “Nick, I don’t know what to do. This is all new to me.”

  “I’ll be here for you, don’t forget. But—”

  “But what?”

  “It’s going to be hard for me to protect you from so far away. Please let me come back to your estate. I’ll stay in the barn, but I don’t want to let you out of my sight.”

  Abigail wanted to welcome him back into her house, and especially into her arms, but it was too soon. “I’ll think about it.”

  “Thank you. That comforts me.”

  She glanced back at the building and frowned. She wanted to be in control of her life, but could she do it? Could she make the right choices? She looked at Nick again, wondering if she should trust him completely. “I better let you get back to work.”

  Nick nodded. “If you wish.”

  He turned to open the door, but Abigail placed her hand on his arm, stopping him. He met her gaze with questioning eyes, and her heart hammered in a crazy rhythm. She leaned slowly toward him, her gaze dropping to his mouth. How she wanted to kiss him passionately! But her courage failed her, and all she managed was a quick kiss on his cheek. When she pulled away, he smiled.

  “I’ll talk to you later,” he said softly.

  “Yes, you will.”

  Finally, she had made a decision that satisfied her.

  Twenty

  Nick knew it was time he fine-tuned his detective skills and start asking questions, and since Harry was teaching him how to work in a newspaper office, this was the perfect time to get to know the man. Harry didn’t strike Nick as someone who would want to kill Abby, but he couldn’t cross Harry off his suspect list yet.

  Somehow Nick had to find Alexander and his son, Anthony. The wife, Julia, probably wouldn’t have been the killer, unless she was working with her husband or son. Nick had yet to see Cassandra, but he wanted to keep an eye on her as well.

  Nick and Harry stood by one of the large printing machines. Long rolls of paper were hooked by a crane to the back of the machine and fed through, while slabs of typesetting graphs were held by another crane to stamp the paper as it revolved. It was a complicated contraption in the testing stage, and it usually took four men to run it, but right now it was only Nick and Harry.

  “You catch on quickly,” Harry said as he cranked the wheel to start the paper rolling.

  “Thank you.” The machine started jerking and grinding loudly, so Nick tightened a screw. He had to raise his voice to be heard. “So tell me, Harry, how long have you been working here?”

  “It’ll be eighteen years next month.”

  “Congratulations. That’s quite an accomplishment.” “Yes, it is. I met Edward when I was just out of university. I

  needed a job desperately, and Edward was such a kind man. He didn’t even know me, yet he put me to work.”

  Nick chuckled. “Then you’ve learned that trait from him, because that’s what you’re doing with me.”

  Harry’s face brightened. “Indeed I have. That’s good to know.”

  “Abby—uh, Miss Carlisle tells me you were her father’s best friend.”

  “I was. We became fast friends.” Harry took a deep breath and released it slowly. “I’m going to miss that man. He was my mentor for so long, it’s hard to think he’ll never be here again.”

  “I wish I could have gotten to know him better,” Nick said.

  “You would have liked him.”

  “May I ask you a more personal question?”

  Harry’s brows lifted. “I suppose.”

  Nick paused, wondering how he could find out what he needed to know without coming right out and asking. And how could he act as if he didn’t have feelings for Abby himself? Heaven help him if he had to try to explain that to Harry. “I’ve noticed how much attention you’re paying to Miss Carlisle, and I was wondering if you two are an item.”

  “An item?”

  Nick groaned inwardly. “I mean, are you courting her?”

  Harry released the wheel, and the machine shifted to a slow rumble. He shuffled his feet, his gaze darting everywhere but to Nick.

  “I see you’re uncomfortable with my question,” Nick said.

  “Yes, but I will answer you. I’m not courting her, although it’s been on my mind lately.”

  “Why now?”

  Harry walked to the wall and leaned against it, folding his arms across his chest. “You probably don’t know this, but Miss Carlisle has been pampered, not only by her father but by most everyone at the newspaper. She’s never been allowed to do anything for herself. We’re her protectors.”

  Nick nodded. “Go on.”

  “Since Edward’s death, Abigail has become very distraught. I fear for her state of mind. She has a lot of responsibility resting on her shoulders now, and she’ll obviously need someone to help her. She won’t be able to run the newspaper by herself because society won’t allow a woman to do that.”

  “And I suppose this is where you’ll step in?”

  “Yes, if she’ll let me,” Harry said. “I do care for her very much, and I’d make a good husband.”

  “Does she love you?” Nick asked hesitantly.

  “I believe so, yes, but not in a romantic way. If she does, she hasn’t expressed her feelings.”

  “Do you love her in a romantic way?” Nick asked.

  “I don’t know. I think I could, but I haven’t allowed myself to because of my friendship with her father.” Harry pulled away from the wall and came to stand right in front of Nick. His gaze narrowed and his smile disappeared. “Why do you ask such a thing?”

  “I have feelings for Miss Carlisle too,” Nick admitted. “Strong feelings.”

  “But you hardly know her!”

  “Yes and no. I know her better than you think.”

  Harry glared. “You want her because of her father’s money.”

  “No. You couldn’t be more wrong. I don’t want her for her money. I could make her happy without it.”

  Harry growled and jerked away, then paced the floor, running his fingers through his hair. “I swore to her father I’d protect her from men who only wanted her because of her inheritance.”

  “And I commend you for that, but I’m not one of those men.”

  Harry stopped suddenly, his gaze drilling into Nick. “I don’t know that. For all I know, you could be a schemer.”

  Nick wiped his hands on the leather apron. “I want to protect her. I fear her uncle is going to cause problems, worse than what he did this afternoon. I’ll do anything I can to stop that from happening.”

  “What makes you think this?”

  “I have a feeling she isn’t safe.” Nick folded his arms. “But what I’d like to know is if you’ll help me. If you care for her like you say you do, will you help me protect her?”

  “Of course, but I still don’t understand why you feel this way.” Harry cocked his head to one side. “Are you a soothsayer like her grandmother?”

  “I suppose you can say I am, because I know she’s in danger. But please don’t let her know. I don’t want her any more upset than she already is.”

  Harry nodded. “Then you can count on me to protect her.”

  Now Nick could strike Harry off his list. But that still left several other suspects he needed to check out.

  Night came quickly and, much to Nick’s disappointment, Abby didn’t ask him to stay at the estate. Now he had to bide his time until everyone left the office, so he could sneak back in and camp out in the attic—the same place Abby had occupied as a ghost.

  He walked outside to stretch his legs and breathe some fresh a
ir. The streetlights were lit, but the parking lot wasn’t. However, Nick recognized Harry’s gait as he headed in that direction.

  From out of the shadows, another figure emerged, meeting Harry at his motorcar. Nick crept close to the building, hoping not to be noticed as he drew nearer to the pair. When the other person laughed, Nick knew he’d heard the female voice before, but he couldn’t pinpoint whom it belonged to.

  He crept slower until he could hear their conversation. The woman flirted outrageously, but Harry acted as if he knew her and wasn’t shocked by her forwardness.

  Nick studied the woman’s movements—the flip of her hand, the tilt of her head when she laughed, and especially the way she casually touched Harry’s arm as if being this intimate wasn’t out of the ordinary.

  She reminded him of Vanessa. That’s it! This must be Vanessa’s great-grandmother, Cassandra. Now Nick strained harder to hear what was being said.

  “I haven’t seen you in a while, Harry.” She stroked his arm. “And I wondered if you’d like to come to my place tonight.”

  Nick nearly choked on his breath. Cassandra was supposed to be engaged to Anthony, wasn’t she? Maybe that didn’t happen until 1917.

  “I appreciate the offer, Miss Brown, but I’ve had a long day. I would like to get some rest tonight.”

  She laid her head on Harry’s shoulder. “I miss you. I will be very miserable without you. I want to be with you all the time.”

  Nick covered his mouth to stifle a gasp. Cassandra and Harry? Definitely not a pair he’d ever put together by himself. Then again, Cassandra did marry a Westland.

  Harry stroked her cheek. “Another night, I promise. I have too much on my mind at the moment.”

  “Well, all right, but I won’t accept your refusal next time.” She pouted.

  Nick had to hold back a laugh. Vanessa had said something like that to him not too long ago. It was eerie how alike she and her great-grandmother were.

  Harry pulled away and climbed in his car. Cassandra watched him leave, blowing kisses at him. Once he was out of sight, she spun around and hurried up the street. On instinct, Nick followed, wishing he’d worn his suit jacket to hide his light-colored shirtsleeves. But there was no time to retrieve the garment now.

  After Nick followed Cassandra for two blocks, he watched her enter an eating establishment. Four customers sat inside on tall stools at the counter. The waitress wiped down tables, looking as if she was trying to close the place for the night.

  Nick stayed outside near a tree and watched through the large window. Cassandra stopped beside a young man sitting on a stool. Nick could only see the back of his head, but noticed he had a similar build to Abby’s cousin Anthony, whom Nick had seen at the cemetery.

  As Cassandra talked to the man, she moved her hands in the air, scowling all the while. It almost looked like she was directing her rant at the young man. Finally, he turned his head slightly, and Nick recognized Anthony.

  Nick frowned. Why had Cassandra flirted with Harry when she planned to meet Anthony later? Did Anthony know about her feelings for Harry?

  There was no use watching the two any longer, since Nick couldn’t hear their conversation. He needed to return to the newspaper office. As he trudged toward the building’s front doors a few minutes later, he saw movement on the street corner and turned to see a woman step out of a car. Abby!

  She waved him near. He practically ran to her side, and when he reached her, he stuffed his hands in his pockets for fear he’d grab and kiss her passionately.

  “Good evening,” he said. “What are you doing out so late?”

  Abby pulled her shawl around her shoulders. “I thought you were probably hungry.”

  He nodded. “I am, actually.”

  “Would you like to have dinner with me?” She shyly ducked her head. “Please don’t think me forward in asking—”

  Nick touched her hand and grinned. “I’d love to have dinner with you.”

  She nodded toward the car. “Then let’s not wait a moment longer. Shall we?”

  He opened the door and slid in beside her. Once Hudson drove away from the building, Abby looked at Nick.

  “I’ve decided to let you stay at the house.”

  Nick stroked her hand, which rested on her leg. “You are my rescuer.”

  She chuckled. “I never thought of it like that.”

  “If you let me have a pillow and blanket, I’ll be just fine in the barn.”

  “No. I’d like you to stay in the guest room you’ve used before. I’ve asked Lily to have it ready for you tonight.”

  He sighed in relief. “Thank you.”

  Abby dropped her gaze to his hand. “I don’t know why I’m doing this, but I feel you will indeed protect me. Since my father died, I’ve needed that comfort. I’ve been so alone, and I haven’t known whom to trust.”

  He touched her cheek until she looked at him. “I won’t disappoint you. I want to protect you.”

  Soon the car stopped and Nick reached for the door handle, but Abby grabbed his arm. “That’s Hudson’s job.”

  “I know, but I wanted to be gallant and help you out.”

  She smiled sweetly. “Then by all means, proceed.”

  Nick climbed out and offered his hand, and Abby slipped her fingers into his palm. As soon as she exited the vehicle, she released his hand, much to his disappointment.

  She led him inside the house to the dining room. The lights were dimmed and lit candles lined the middle of the table, lending a romantic ambience to the room. Two plates were set, one at the end of the table, and the other immediately to the right.

  Nick pulled out a chair for Abby, and when she was seated, he sat in the other. Right away, two kitchen servants carried out trays of food. The heavenly scent of roast duck made Nick’s stomach growl. Nothing was said as the food was set on the table, and once he and Abby had served themselves, Nick lifted his fork and dove in.

  After a few minutes, Abby cleared her throat. “Nick? I would very much like it if you told me a little more about yourself. All I know is that you’re a solicitor and that your father passed away.”

  He swallowed. “Where do you want me to begin?”

  “Well, how long have you been a lawyer?”

  “Ten years.”

  Abby paused as she brought a piece of duck to her mouth. “That’s amazing. Where did you work?”

  “Several places, actually.” He sipped his grape juice. “I’ve been all over California, employed with small firms here and there. When I landed the big firm in Hollywood, I thought I’d hit the jackpot.”

  “Oh, how lovely. I’m certain you had many clients from Los Angeles.”

  “Yes, I did, in fact.”

  She nibbled on a roll. “Have you ever been married?”

  Her question was spoken so softly he wasn’t sure he heard right, but when her cheeks turned a dark pink he knew he had. “No, Abby. I wasn’t looking for a wife and family. I worked hard at getting my career off the ground and didn’t have much time to date . . . I mean, to court women.”

  She laughed. “You may say ‘date,’ Nick. It’s a more modern word than courting. I prefer not to use ‘courting’because it sounds so old-fashioned. Don’t you agree?”

  He laughed out loud. If she only knew how old-fashioned all of this was to him! “I never know what to say around you anymore.”

  “Just be yourself.”

  “If you wish,” he answered with a nod.

  Abby took a bite of her mashed potatoes. “Tell me about your mother, Nick. I’m quite certain she’d be very proud of you.”

  He stopped with his fork halfway to his mouth, wondering how much he should he tell her about his mother. He guessed Abby would understand, since her grandmother was a little like his mother. “My father divorced my mother when I was young. I missed out on a lot of things as a child. It wasn’t until just recently that I started getting close to her.”

  Sadness filled Abby’s eyes. She set her fork down a
nd reached out to grab Nick’s hand. He squeezed her fingers softly.

  “Nick, I’m amazed how much we have in common.” She shook her head. “I still don’t understand why you know some of the things you do, but I’m starting to think you were indeed sent here to help me.”

  He lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed her knuckles, noticing that her gaze dropped to his lips. “Honey, you can bet I’ll take on that responsibility the best I can.” He lowered his voice. “In fact, if you’ll allow me, I’d like to start tonight.”

  Twenty-One

  Nick sprang out of bed the next morning and hurried to dress, knowing that not one moment could be wasted. He must find Abby’s killer today. Time was slipping by too fast, and he couldn’t bear the thought of her being taken away from him again.

  Since he’d arrived in 1912, he wondered if he’d changed anything about her upcoming death. If he had changed the course of time and she wasn’t murdered in her father’s office, would the killer still seek her out until he or she accomplished the deed? Probably. Greed was the key element here, and Nick guessed the killer would stop at nothing.

  Nick rushed downstairs to the kitchen and saw two servants preparing breakfast. Lily stood chatting with them, but when she saw Nick, she closed her mouth. He had a sneaking suspicion they were talking about him.

  He smiled at the maid. “Good morning.”

  “Good morning, Mr. Marshal. Is there something I can do for you?” Lily asked.

  “Just breakfast.” He motioned toward the two ladies at the stove. “I have an early day at the newspaper.”

  Lily nodded. “It’ll be ready in a few minutes.”

  “Thank you.” Nick turned to leave, then changed his mind and stopped. “Actually, there is something else you can do for me, Lily.”

  “What’s that, sir?”

  “Would you permit me a few minutes to talk to you? In private, if we could?”

  She glanced at the other two servants before giving Nick a nod. “As you wish.”

  Nick led the way into the dining room and then motioned for her to sit. When she did, he took the chair next to her. The older woman sat straight with her hands folded in her lap. Her silverstreaked brown hair was wound in a bun, and she wore the same brown uniform the other servants did, with a different-colored apron. Her gaze bore into Nick, and he suspected she thought the same thing Harry did—that he was only after Abby’s money. It looked like he’d have to set her mind at ease, too.